


Someone Who Gets You

by whenhopefadestoblack



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:10:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenhopefadestoblack/pseuds/whenhopefadestoblack
Summary: "In my experience, I've learned that survival comes at a price, just like love, and family and basically anything else. But at the end of the day, we only answer to ourselves"





	Someone Who Gets You

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to do this as apart from my ongoing one-shots, suck at summaries but basically Freya beginning to realise she's developing feelings, in a series of moments in which she sees Keelin in her vulnerable moments.

_One_  (4x01)

She still doesn't go without a fight, despite the fact that not an hour ago she witnessed the Mikaelson witch (bitch) melting a vampire's mind with a simple curling of her fist.  
She fought for this life, tooth and nail, and like hell she's giving it up without a fight.  
It goes as well as planned; the minute the Mikaelson witch frees her other wrist in order to drag her to their transportation, she uses her growing strength (it's been hours since she took a dose, and she can feel the wolf building up, anger and bitterness in her chest) to shove her away, doesn't wait to see if the witch has fallen or not before she makes a break for it, but her path is blocked by a blur in a suit. She hits the ground hard, head cracking against the concrete and she sees stars in the seconds before she sees nothing.

Freya hauls herself to her feet, limbs aching and body still tired despite her years of sleep, makes her way to stand next to Elijah and look down at the unconscious wolf. There's the traces of blood on her scalp, marks biting into the skin of her wrists from the ties she'd tried to break from. Freya finds herself drawn to Keelin's face, the slope of her nose and lines etched into her forehead, the look on her face one of disdain even in unconsciousness.  
"Must we keep her?" Elijah questions, casting a glance at Hayley, who is watching the two of them from across the way, arms crossed and shoulders hunched. She isn't happy; despite capturing Keelin herself, the wolf is one of her kind, and Freya can practically feel the guilt eating at her.  
"We need her," Freya looks at him, feels a twinge in her stomach at the look he gives her, but pushes past it.  
Family comes first.  
Always and forever.

 

 _Two_  (4x03)

She checks on her every hour like clockwork; she doesn't trust the long-lingering looks Hayley has been sending towards the barn, the way she whispers under her breath to Elijah when she thinks Freya isn't looking.  
It's not unexpected that Keelin does little more than glare her way, shadows under her eyes and body sagging; she's not broken, yet, but she's getting somewhere close.  
She knows that look; knows the feeling of being trapped by someone, despite the fact that in her case there hadn't been physical ropes tying her down.  
Dahlia.  
The name leaves something bitter in her mouth, something that feels like guilt in her stomach, and she forces it away as she pushes the barn door open, the room plunged into the darkness brought with the rising moon.  
She's sleeping, somehow (she knows that the mask is painful, witnessed its effects each time she pressed it to Keelin's face), uncomfortably pressed into the small gap between the worn red tractor and the wooden table. Maybe she passed out, or maybe the exhaustion of forcing herself to stay awake for days on end has gotten the best of her.  
Freya moves up to her slowly, crouches down to get a closer look. She spies the smudge of tears under the woman's eyes, finds blood on her wrists along with gouges undoubtedly caused by her struggle against the ties keeping her in place.  
She looks uncomfortable, and something in Freya wants to help. She doesn't know when that feeling became foreign to her but it is now, and she feels uncomfortable at the thought.  
_Keelin doesn't matter_ , she tells herself. _All that matters is the venom._  
That sensation is still in her gut when she turns and walks away.

 

 _Three_ (4x04)

They've been working all night.  
Freya manages to dig out an old laptop of Hayley's, which Keelin uses to bring up lists of drugs that Freya can't pronounce. She speaks magic, not medicine.  
Keelin seems to breathe medical terms, even as she blinks the tiredness out of her eyes and struggles to keep her head propped up.  
Freya finds herself unwittingly drawn to the movements she makes- the way she twists her fingers in her hair, and drums her nails on the wooden table top, and sends Freya veiled looks across the barn.  
She doesn't know if it's hate, or disgust, or loathing, but for some reason the looks cause something itchy to twist in her gut.  
She feels something else entirely when she looks up from a spell book, a question half-formed on her lips and she sees Keelin's back curved over the table, arms crossed over and head resting in the nook of one elbow.  
She can hear her steady breathing from here, can't help the curiosity that overtakes her and lifts herself from her chair, crossing the room to the other woman.  
She means to rouse her, but finds herself stopping short when she catches sight of Keelin's face; it's smoothed of anger and fear, a slight crease between her drawn down brows. It's been a while since she's seen someone at peace like that, surprised that the wolf woman is able to even be sleeping despite the threat of death (partially caused by Freya herself) hanging over her head. It takes a minute, but instead of advancing like she initially planned, she finds herself retreating backwards, casting a final glance at the sleeping woman before turning and exiting the barn.  
They can carry on their work in the morning.

 

 _Four_ (4x05)

She's not quite sure when the dynamic changed between them, but she finds herself not-hating it, finds herself revelling in the fact that Keelin no longer sends her looks of contempt and disgust, instead looking at her like she's... human.  
She's still angry; Freya can see it, just under the surface, but there's something else there.  
Understanding?  
They work better together with this new-found whatever-it-is, and Freya understands more of the medical nonsense that spills over Keelin's lips with ease whilst Keelin seems less awestruck with each spell that Freya performs.  
She's not sure why, but that saddens her; there was something about Keelin's expression, the way her eyes widened and lips parted, that caused that knot to return to her stomach.  
Eventually working becomes talking, and then talking becomes drinking; Keelin discovers a bottle of tequila hidden somewhere (Freya's honestly not sure how it got there. Probably one of her siblings, as a barb or a hint of some kind). They're close to figuring it out, Freya can tell, and the exhaustion running through her is the excuse she has for agreeing when Keelin suggests they open the bottle.  
With each glass Keelin becomes more open, smiles more loosely and touches more easily; Freya finds it uncomfortable at first, the brush of a hand on her back, fingertips on her forearm, hair tickling her neck.  
Then she finds it less uncomfortable; leads Keelin with a palm between her shoulder blades to the mattress, fights the bottle free from her hand and drops it to the floor, practically forces her to a sitting position on the bed (carefully. She's aware she could overstep a boundary at any minute, find the wolf snapping back at her for a misplaced touch or word) and tells her that she thinks it's time they stop.  
( _"You need to rest"._  She refuses to read into her own words, refuses to admit that there was something resembling caring there)  
Keelin protests until she doesn't anymore, talks to Freya with a slur to her words whilst the witch moves back to the table, and Freya keeps responding to her questions and comments until she's met with silence.  
She turns, and Keelin is on her back, one palm flat on her stomach whilst her other hand rests on her drawn up leg, her eyes closed and her breathing steady.  
Freya affords herself a smile, lets herself take in the sleeping woman's face for a moment, lingering longer than strictly necessary and releasing a breath as she turns away.  
There's that feeling in her stomach, something not-quite new, familiar, but something she hasn't felt in hundreds of years, and she doesn't quite know what to do about it.


End file.
